


Saturday

by EmmaArthur (EchoBleu)



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: But it's not easy, Canon Disabled Character, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medical Appointments, Post Season 1, Prompt Fill, The boys are trying, Trust Issues, Tumblr Prompt, a little at least, actual communication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:01:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22324498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EchoBleu/pseuds/EmmaArthur
Summary: Alex says no to a lunch date several times in a row. Michael wonders why he's blowing him off.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 34
Kudos: 195





	Saturday

**Author's Note:**

> For a prompt by [aewriting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aewriting/pseuds/aewriting) on Tumblr: _You always address Alex’s disability so thoughtfully in your writing. “I wish you’d write a fic where...” Michael thinks Alex is blowing him off, but he’s actually at a medical appointment for his leg._
> 
> I set out to write maybe 500 words, but as usual that's not what happened. I hope you like it!

_Lunch at the Crashdown?_ Michael types out while getting ready for his day. It's Saturday,  so Alex should be off work and they can finally have that date they've been planning. Michael wanted it to be yesterday night, but Isobel dragged him with her to the Wild Pony instead. She keeps doing that, to the point that Michael is starting to suspect his sister isn't going to that bar for the beer.

_Not today, sorry,_ Alex answers after a few minutes. 

Michael frowns. He and Alex have been going out for a couple of months now, in that weird limbo between friendly outings and dates where they stay in public to keep themselves accountable. It precludes anything but the chastest kisses, and then only when Alex doesn't freak out at being out in a homophobic town, but it has made them actually talk rather than fall in bed at the first occasion, so they've agreed to keep going.

But this is the third Saturday in a row that Alex has blown him off without an explanation. Michael doesn't understand. He doesn't often have his Saturdays free, since five days a week don't quite bring h im the income he needs to keep up with his recently extended social life. But he's been picking up restoration jobs around town that pay much better than car-tweaking recently, so it's allowed him to take his weekends off.

And Alex doesn't want to have lunch with him.

_Okay,_ he answers simply, sadness pinching at his chest. He doesn't bother to offer another option. Alex is allowed not to want to spend time with him, he supposes, and he'll see him tomorrow at Isobel's anyway.

He drags himself to his car instead, deciding that since he doesn't have a lunch date, he might as well do something useful with himself. He picks up some groceries at the store, then heads to the hospital, where he and Liz have been working at her lab since it was rebuilt.

Liz briefly looks up from her microscope to smile at him  when he w alks in .

“Hi Mickey! What are you doing here on a Sunday?”

“I could return the question,” Michael says.

“I didn't really have anything else to do,” Liz shrugs. She's been working a lot, both for her actual paying job and on their side projects. Max's resurrection, it turns out, is not an overnight thing, even once they figured out how to restart his heart. He needs to rebuild the huge amount of energy that he lost, and that means he's still in a coma, hooked up to machines Alex bought off the Internet and Valenti set up in his house. So, coupled with Rosa leaving town, Michael gets why Liz uses work to take her mind off things.

“I think Alex blew me off again,” he says.

“Alex? I just saw him,” Liz frowns, her eyes still on her microscope.

“Here?”

“Yeah, he had a gap between appointments, so he came to say hello.”

“Appointments?” Michael stops in the middle of setting up his station in surprise.

“Hm. PT or something. You wanted to see him?”

“I wanted to have lunch with him.”

“Alex never does Saturday lunches,” Liz says absently. “The last time he did, we spent the afternoon with Maria and Mimi and he was so exhausted I had to drive him home before we made it to dinner. That's why Isobel settled for Sunday brunches even though Kyle has to bail off every other week. I thought everyone knew that.”

At Michael's silence, she finally looks up. “ Wait, y ou really thought Alex  just  brushed you off?”

Michael nods wordlessly. He feels like an asshole, suddenly. But then, Alex didn't  _tell_ him.

“Wow. Um, I feel like I shouldn't have just told you all this.” Liz bites her lip. “You didn't know?”

“It's okay,” Michael says, his heart in his throat.

“Alex doesn't like talking about this, but I don't understand why he didn't at least tell you−”

“It's okay, Liz,” Michael repeats. “I...I didn't ask. We haven't really talked about this stuff.”

“Well maybe you should. He could use another friend. Someone more available than me or Maria.”

M ichael just nods and gets to work. Liz's words have triggered a hurricane in his head, and he needs to quiet it down. He longs for a guitar, but working is the next best thing. How has he missed so much of Alex's life? Even Isobel seems to know more about him than Michael, and yet he hadn't even noticed that Alex isn't really letting him in. 

Grand declarations of love and epic sex are not the same as actual communication, but Michael thought they were finally getting there. After the mess with Maria−a fling that ended after just one kiss when Max  _died_ , but still hurt them all more than Michael ever wanted it to−it's taken him months to gain Alex's trust back, but he thought that was behind them now, that they were working on building a solid relationship. But how much is Alex still holding back?

They need to talk, Michael realizes. They need to talk before  his head manages to spin this into anger and resentment. There could be some innocuous reason why Alex doesn't want to share his Saturdays with him, why he didn't tell him about his medical appointments.

B efore he can change his mind, he types a text on his phone.  _Can we do dinner? I can come over with Crashdown burgers._ They haven't done this yet, eaten at each other's place rather than a neutral public space, but maybe it's time. Michael can easily imagine that Alex doesn't want to spill out medical details in a crowded bar.

Alex doesn't answer for another  two  hour s . Michael forces himself to work rather than spin out, until Liz drags him with her to have lunch with her father.  Michael feels bad for imposing on their time together, but Arturo must feel how much he needs a distraction as well as his daughter, because he treats Michael to a mountain of food and a dozen different anecdotes about Liz's childhood.

_O kay. I have beers._ Michael stares at his phone for a moment, lost in thoughts, then sends a thumb-up emoji back.

“That Alex?” Liz asks kindly. She knows what's on his mind, of course she does. She and Michael have grown pretty close in nearly six months of working together in the lab and holding each other up after Max died.

“Yeah. I'm meeting him for dinner.”

“Good. You want to visit with Max until then? I've been trying to read to him in hope that it will wake him up, but it's a bit lonely.”

“Sure,” Michael accepts. It will give him something to do, at least. And he can't imagine what it's like for Liz, who has moved into Max's house to be able to look over him. She needs all the company she can get.

Max seems a little more responsive than two days ago when Michael last swung by. Valenti was able to wean him off the ventilator over a week ago, and he  opens his eyes more and more often, though he can't yet talk. It's going in the right direction, at least.

A  little before six, allowing for the drive to Alex's cabin, Michael goes back to the Crashdown to pick up the order he gave Arturo. He tries not to let his mind wander too much on the way, because he doesn't want to be angry when he gets to the cabin.  He thinks of the positive instead. He's going to see Alex. Even after months, he still marvels that he can just take his car and drive to him, rather than have to imagine him half a world away, maybe in danger, always out of reach.

Alex greets him with a tired smile and, when he steps back to let him in, Michael realizes he's leaning on his crutches. His prosthesis is off, the leg of his sweat pants pinned up, and he's wearing an oversize Star Wars hoodie Michael knows he wouldn't be caught dead with in public.

“Hey. Are you okay?” Michael frowns a little.

“Yeah, just tired,” Alex answers. He drops back on the couch rather than offer his help with dinner, which tells Michael that he must be in pain, too. “Beer's in the fridge.”

“If you need to sleep or something, I don't have to stay,” Michael says, despite his instinct to smother Alex with care.

“No, it's all good. I do need to eat, and I miss you. Bring me water, though, please?”

Michael comes back from the kitchen with a beer for himself and a glass of water for Alex, and starts unloading the Cashdown paper bag on the coffee table, since Alex doesn't seem to want to move from the couch. “I got some milkshakes, I know you like to dip your fries,” he says. “Not that I'll ever agree with that.”

Alex snorts lightly. “Thanks. Sounds nice.”

“Alex, can I ask−”

Alex looks down at his hands. “Yeah. I've been waiting for you to ask for a while, actually.”

“Really? I didn't...I didn't want to intrude, and I figured maybe I was already asking for too much time with you. But I spent the day with Liz, and she said she saw you this morning−”

“No, no, it's not about you, okay? I want to spend time with you,” Alex stops him. “I'm sorry, I should have given a reason.”

“I'm not entitled to your time, even though I tend to forget it,” Michael says. “That's what Liz made me realize.”

Alex watches him for a moment, then nods. Needing something to do with his hands, Michael hands him a burger and arranges the cartons of fries between them. They eat for a while in silence. It's not an easy, natural silence, not quite, but it's not tense, either. Just expectant.

“I have back to back appointments every Saturday morning,” Alex explains. “Shrink, then PT, then the prosthetist every other week. They often run over lunchtime and I'm usually too tired to do anything else for the rest of the day.” He keeps his gaze firmly on his food, and Michael hates to think that he's ashamed. “PT's pretty brutal right now. We're trying out some blades, so it's a lot of running and jumping around. It makes me really sore, so that's why I have my leg off.”

M ichael nods slowly. “I feel awful for thinking that you were blowing me off,” he says. At Alex's aborted huff of annoyance, he realizes that he's once again bringing it back to himself. Damn. He needs to start thinking before he talks. “I mean, thank you for telling me.”

“I didn't want to say yes to lunch and then show up late, or bail on you because I'm too tired.”

“I understand, Alex.” Michael reaches out almost by reflex, taking Alex's hand in his. “I get it, it's fine. I wouldn't have asked at all if I'd known. I'm realizing that I've never shown interest in your...health. It's not because I don't care, I do.”

“There's probably a lot we still don't know about each other, Guerin,” Alex says. Michael raises an eyebrow at the use of his last name, an old habit that Alex has given up for the most part. But it's an appropriate reminder of their history. “We missed ten years of each other's life. Just because I know your big secret doesn't mean we don't have anything left to share.”

“I want to share things, though,” Michael breathes. 

“Yeah, me too. This,” Alex gestures to his leg, “It's hard. I don't want to...it's hard to let myself look vulnerable. Even to you. Especially to you, sometimes.”

“Especially?”

“You remember what you said, 'if anyone's gonna destroy me, it might as well be you'? Sometimes I feel like I shouldn't give you too much ammunition. Because when you lash out, you know exactly where to strike.”

Michael reels back from that, shocked. “Is this about something I said recently?” he asks.

Alex shakes his head. “No. Look, I'm not saying that to argue with you. I'm just...trying to show you where I come from. With my father and my brothers, and then in the Air Force...any vulnerability you show will be turned against you. So my default mode is to hide. I don't want to be like that with you, but you've done it before, too. You  go straight for the throat when you're hurt.”

“Shit,” Michael mutters. “You're not wrong. I don't like that it's my defense mechanism, but it is. I can't help it sometimes.”

“I know,” Alex says with a sad smile.

“I can't promise that it will never happen again, but I can promise to work on it? Like...I don't even know how, off the top of my head, but there has to be a way. I−I want to say that things like your leg will always stay off limits, but−”

“You can't promise that, either,” Alex murmurs. “I get that, too. Maybe I just need to take a leap of faith and decide to trust you.”

Michael bites his lip. “Maybe we could meet in the middle?”

Alex meets his gaze, large brown eyes shining just a little, and he nods slowly. Michael leans closer, putting down his fry, and their mouth meet before he even has his hand around Alex's neck.

“In the middle, yeah,” Alex breaks their kiss briefly to shift into a more comfortable position. “Sounds good.” He crashes his mouth against Michael's again.

Michael closes his eyes. This isn't a problem solved, not even close. But they can work on it, and that's all he needs for now.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments make my day and I love hearing your thoughts! I'm also on [Tumblr](https://emma-arthur.tumblr.com/).


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